So long have I had to resend my sins of love, <br />Packed away in the glove box or <br />The attics for better, and less precarious men, <br />Considering the heredity of my complexion, <br />And the state that unabashed sunlight puts me in; <br />But I was beautiful once: <br />I was beautiful once in a fairytale halfway through <br />High school <br />When I ran away to Michigan, <br />When S- made crocks of clay and won the <br />Irish lottery; <br />But what was I doing all this time, hoping for the <br />Quiet interludes of beauty between the street lights, <br />And the soccer field’s esplanades: <br />Oh- Oh, I loved her: I loved her, her indescribable eyes, <br />Or her amber Latin eyes, <br />Light the drunk street lights for pirates, <br />But it wasn’t enough; it wasn’t enough; <br />And the cops come and shine their lights all back and forth <br />All over our amusements, but it wasn’t ever enough; <br />And I loved her, oh god I loved her, <br />But now she just street races coffins: <br />She does her thing, she sells her thing, and she is pierced <br />Like a moth dying in the sepias of your church yard- <br />And I loved her, <br />And her voice is always singing more easterly, <br />But it wasn’t ever enough that I loved her enough, <br />So I sling my wine, <br />And cry with my face buried in the graveyards of my plaid <br />Shoulder blade, <br />As the cops come shining their lights for Christmas, <br />Because my presents were never enough <br />For her to love me.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-her-to-love-me/
